


I’m burning down these gates

by crookedspoon



Category: Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Blind Date, M/M, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 09:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17097887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: Someone tried to catfish Donna using Dick's photo. Dick decides to set up a meet and investigate, just for fun, and to satisfy his curiosity. He didn't expect it to take more than ten minutes. Boy, was he wrong.





	I’m burning down these gates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [empires](https://archiveofourown.org/users/empires/gifts).



> Like my previous Titans work, this was inspired by empires' tags on [this post](https://alittlemirthandmayhem.tumblr.com/post/180462493828/donna-text-1421-hey-dick-dick-text).
> 
> Big shoutout to the JoyDick server for encouraging me to write this. It has been lounging in incomplete mode for a while because I'm incapable of writing dates. But I appreciate all the encouragement I've gotten along the way, and am posting this, hopefully as part one of two, but I'm making no promises.

Dick has decided to be fashionably late, just to test the waters.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Donna had asked, lacking the amusement she'd shown when he first suggested the idea. It seemed like she'd already grown bored with it and would rather scroll through her latest pictures on her camera for hours on end. "We had a good laugh, but frankly, this wouldn't be worth my time."

"Call it professional curiosity." Dick shrugged and shot Donna his best reassuring smile. Not that she can't see through him when he's trying too hard, but he's not.

Not this time. 

The café has a homey feel to it despite its modern decor. The warm, earthy colors of the backlit walls complement the sleek furniture and lovingly hand-picked watercolor prints by local artists, some of whom he's met hawking their wares on the street the last time he was in Chicago. The ceiling is hung with greenery and every surface polished to a shine that Dick welcomes because it makes his quick survey of the guests that much more inconspicuous.

If he didn't know any better, he would have surmised the location was chosen for its tactical merit. There's enough space between the aisles for a fight, the subway is only a quick dash away, not to mention the side alleys with their ready roof access via fire escapes.

Perhaps that should have been his first clue.

Still, a flare of surprise trips him up when he sees a familiar face in the corner booth, conveniently at his back so he'd be spotted entering before he could do the spotting in turn. It's quickly trying to morph into something angry, a habit he's been trying the shake since the last time they met.

To his great luck and satisfaction, however, he hasn't been spotted yet. He can still leave. The reason he came here for suddenly no longer seems important.

He can also use it to his advantage. Because his 'professional curiosity' sure as hell wouldn't let him leave without clearing up the questions that he has. And the best way to do disperse any cloud of confusion is to meet it head-on.

That is something he won't grow out of, no matter how much he distances himself from Batman: he sees a mystery, he needs to solve it.

Jason is sitting with his back to the wall, hunched over his coffee, and thumbing through his phone. The seat across from him is empty; he's clearly waiting for someone. It could be an informant, but why would he meet one in a café in broad daylight. And without his mask, at that.

Perhaps that should have been his second clue.

To his credit, Jason hides his own surprise well when Dick approaches him. For a rookie, at least. Dick's been at this for too long to miss the brief widening of Jason's eyes or the sudden tension gripping his spine. He relaxes again quickly, but not quickly enough for it to go unnoticed.

"What are you doing here?" Dick asks as he slides into the empty seat, seemingly casual but ready to jump up again at the slightest hint of danger. Not that he has anything to fear from Jason, but he also has no way of knowing what he's doing here, so Dick's presence might alarm him.

"Enjoying a fucking cup of coffee?" Jason says, tapping his cup of what smells like French press but looks more creamy than anything.

"Did _he_ send you?"

"What's with the interrogation, bro? I mean, what are _you_ doing here?"

Dick lifts his eyebrow.

Jason huffs, crosses his arms and lets his back thud against the upholstery. "I'm here for a date, if you must know. It's been great meeting you again and all, but it'd be even greater if you could leave now. I don't want my date to walk past because she thinks I'm otherwise engaged."

Perhaps it's the third clue that finally makes the pieces click.

"Funniest thing, I'm here for a date as well." Dick can't help the smirk blooming on his face. "Sure you don't want me to stick around? I'm pretty sure your date might walk past you anyway if I'm not around."

He places his cell phone on the table and spins it around so that Jason can see the chat log Donna had with a person using Dick's photo as profile image. The person Dick is here to confront.

Jason's eyes dart from the screen to Dick's face and back, cheeks tinged red. "Wh-what is that?"

Oh, he is good. If Dick didn't already have his suspicions, he might have missed the waver in his voice. "Says here we're supposed to meet at this café ten minutes ago." He flashes Jason a brilliant smile, but is unable to keep the mean slant out of it. "I'm late."

Jason pauses, his look of incredulity makes way for one of slyness. Clearly he got the memo that playing innocent wouldn't fly with Dick. "Look at you, bro, so in love with your own looks that you'd date a guy who's your spitting image."

"More like, I wanted to find out who would be desperate enough to use my picture to catfish my best friend." Dick's pleasant exterior never slips.

"She's your best friend?"

"Come on, Jason."

"Worth a try," he says and shrugs, hiding his expression behind his coffee cup. "Guess that means you're my date now, huh?"

Dick is... floored for a second. This wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting. Not that he knew what he'd been expecting. But certainly not that.

He watches Jason's next move like a hawk, as if it would make or break the current situation.

It certainly breaks something. And he doesn't mean his concentration.

Jason puts down his cup with a clink and turns toward the seat next to him to pick something up.

The next moment, Dick is staring at a bouquet of wildflowers that are being thrust into his face unceremoniously.

Dick closes his eyes, mildly incredulous, then opens them again. Nope, they're still there.

"I went to all the trouble of planning the perfect date, not like I'm gonna let it all go to waste now."

The paper rustles as Jason waves the flowers at him, almost as if brandishing a weapon. The daisies and prim roses gently nod their heads at Dick, reassuring him that they're harmless, and encouraging him to accept.

Reluctantly, he closes his fingers around them. "They're... pretty."

Jason's lips quirk as drapes his arms over the backrest. "I guess this would be my cue to I say 'Not as pretty as you' but no offence, bro, you're not as pretty as my actual date, who's a no-show."

"That's something you and Donna agree on."

"See, there's your proof that she and I would have made a great match."

Dick can't help the laughter that bubbles from his chest. Just imagining Jason trying to court Donna is the most pitiful thing that's crossed his mind in a long while. More so than even Penguin's crooks trying out avian puns to emulate their boss. Which, if you ever had the misfortune of catching them rehearsing, is pretty pathetic.

"She'd crush you like a bug, Jason," he says, once he's calmed down enough to trust himself to speak without bursting out laughing again. He actually as to wipe away a tear.

"Sounds like my kinda gal." Jason eyes him intently, almost glaring, and leans forward as if hoping for secrets to be spilled. "Tell me more."

Dick's laughter turns more nervous than anything. He wonders if Jason is keeping him on his toes on purpose or if it's all just accidental. He can't say he appreciates the uncertainty, and decides it's time to flip the script.

He places the flowers on the seat next to him to buy himself some time and regain composure.

"Why don't _you_ tell me more about this perfect date of yours, and I'll tell you if Donna would have enjoyed it." Dick would like to say he's expecting a good laugh out of it, but part of him is genuinely curious about what a kid like Jason thinks would make a great date.

"How about I just show you?" Jason says, leaning back again and threading his fingers behind his head. "Unless you want anything before I do. A coffee, maybe? A slice of pie?"

"You want to go on an actual date with me?"

Jason rolls his eyes. " _You're_ the one who showed up here. Seems like you wanted to go on a date with someone, at least. Might as well be me."

"I just wanted to see the poor sod who thought they'd have a chance with Donna." Dick's grin feels forced, he himself always a step behind, unable to regain his footing, even when he thought he did. His feet shift to press their soles flat into the floor, trying to ground him.

"I would totally have had a chance, if she'd given me the time of day."

Dick nods along, humming his not-at-all sincere agreement and running his fingertips along the side of his cell phone that's still lying between them. "Uh-huh, in your dreams perhaps."

"Keep up the smack-talk and I'm not paying for your pie, Boy Wonder." Jason crosses his arms and lifts his chin like a challenge.

"I can pay for my own," Dick says and slips his phone back into his coat pocket. He should get going; he got everything he came here for, which was to satisfy his curiosity.

Jason makes an exasperated sound. "Do you even know how a date works? I'm paying for your fucking pie, Grayson, back off."

"I wasn't going to stay that long. But thanks, anyway"

Jason grabs Dick's cuff before Dick so much as shifts in his seat.

"I'm going to order you a fucking piece of pie," he says, already hailing the waitstaff, "and you're going to fucking eat it. And drink a cup of coffee, because what's a pie without a coffee?"

If Dick has learned anything in all his years as Robin, it's knowing when to pick his battles. This, he realizes, is one he can't win. 

"Christ, kid. All right. You don't have to make a scene." Dick pulls his arm out of Jason's grip.

Jason looks like he's about to spew something acidic, but in that moment a waitress appears at their table, pad and pencil ready to take their order, and stops him in his tracks. Dick silently sends his praise out to the universe. He's met a bunch of strange entities over the years, something is bound to pick up his thoughtwave and appreciate it for what it is.

"What can I get you?" the waitress asks in an overly friendly customer service voice that's at odds with her slumped shoulders and her heavy tread. Her ankles are swollen, she's been on her feet for a while, but the moment her eyes meet Dick's, it's like the exhaustion melts right out of her. He can now safely assume that she's about his age, even though the tired lines on her face make her appear older.

"An Americano with an extra shot, please," Jason says with a sudden change in demeanor. He's warm and welcoming and familiar, like they've known each other since forever ago, but Dick reads no recognition in her bearing.

Still, it would be too much to hope that Jason would forget about his antagonism over flirting with this lady. He may be turned toward her and showering her with his attention, yet he's eyeing Dick surreptitiously as if daring him to send her away without an order.

Dick heaves a mental sign and gives in. It's easier than causing a ruckus, which is where this is likely headed if he doesn't play along.

"Can I have a salted caramel mocha frappuccino?" he asks with an apologetic smile. His preferences when it comes to caffeinated beverages mark him as a rich boy, or at least a pompous douche, and he probably wouldn't have ordered it if he didn't need the caffeine and sugar kick to help him deal with Jason.

It's not like he's being particularly diffifult, but the simple fact that he's Robin and has been trained by Bruce is enough to make Dick suspicious. He can't be sure setting up a meeting with Donna wasn't just a ruse to get Dick involved in something. All he can be certain of is that for as long as he's dealing with Jason, he'll need to be on high alert.

Even if Jason hasn't given him much reason to suspect he has ulterior motives for showing up here unannounced.

"And a slice of pie," Jason says, and Dick almost anticipates him grabbing his arm again to stop him from leaving. But Jason just shifts forward, leaning in as if for a conspiratorial whisper. "Is there anything you'd recommend?"

Damn, he's making even Dick blush. Because this is embarrassing to watch.

"Oh, uhh," the waitress stammers, wiggling her pencil around and dancing from foot to foot. "They're all good, actually. We have apple pie, cherry pie, pecan pie, pumpkin pie... um."

"Pecan sounds good. What do you think, bro?" Jason's head casually tilts toward Dick, and Dick feels pinned under the weight of that gaze.

It's a dare, for sure, one that Dick won't lose.

Still, it's tough to wrench his eyes away, but Dick manages. He even throws in a kind smile for good measure. 

"Apple for me, please. With an extra dollop of whipped cream, if you can manage."

"Of course, coming right up," the waitress says, a lot more upbeat than the first time she spoke up, and clears away Jason's cup before leaving.

Jason almost immediately switches from grinning and thanking her to frowning after her retreating back. He scoffs the moment she's out of earshot.

"Salted caramel— are you for real? That's not coffee, that's a fucking milkshake, bro."

"Is that so?" Dick asks. "So now you're not only forcing a drink on me, you're policing what I'm allowed to drink as well? Are you sure _you_ know how a date works?"

"I'm just messing with you, man." Jason says and starts fiddling with the sugar dispenser. "You're allowed to drink what you want, I'm just saying that ain't coffee."

"Do you really want to get into an argument about semantics?"

"No need, I already won it." He grins, and it's so sure of himself, Dick can only shake his head and resign himself to waiting for their orders. 

He briefly entertains leaving, and checks his phone for some emergency alerts, but there's nothing that'd require his immediate attention. Only a text from Donna asking if he found the guy.

He found him, all right. But he's not one of the sad losers either of them had imagined.

If that were the case, Dick wouldn't have let himself be roped into spending his whole afternoon with the guy. Perhaps he needs to keep his curiosity in check next time something seemingly unimportant catches his eye.

Might save him some embarrassment. He can already _hear_ Donna's laughter when she catches wind of this.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Palm Springs Reset" by Julien-K. Many thanks to Neurotoxia for suggesting the song.
> 
> Many, many thanks also to Volavi and LuthienLuinwe especially for providing me with coffee/pie dialogue snippets to work with. You guys rock ♥


End file.
